can't possibly be worse than route 95
by xIrelandx
Summary: I asked for prompts on tumblr, and I received: "Oh, how about Nokomitsu - they're car-pooling somewhere and the car breaks down?"


There's a conference about an hour away. Or, it should have been a mere hour away. The gods of traffic decided otherwise - apparently, an hour was simply not amusing. Sixteen accidents on the same stretch of road - the only stretch of road, only two lanes wide - put them far behind schedule to begin with. And they'd left early, Edgeworth had made sure of that. Nothing personal, he simply didn't trust the detective's time management skills. The only possible answer was the the world - nay, the universe - despised Miles Edgeworth and wanted him to be miserable. There was no other explanation available.

Dick drilled his fingers on the steering wheel. Edgeworth was busy rubbing his temples, but he could see out of his peripherals. The detective was chewing on his lower lip, eyes flicking toward his passenger and to the speedometer and back again. Miles was pretty sure he already knew what the answer was, but common courtesy dictated that he at least ask before leaping to very likely conclusions. "Is something the matter, detective?"

"Well…" The clicking of the car did not sound promising. "I'm sorry, Mr. Edgeworth, but we're out of gas."

Miles let out a long, loud sigh. Dick put the turn signal on so that they could park on the shoulder, the hazards flashing. It was embarrassing and ludicrous. Who'd ever heard of a cop car breaking down on the highway?

Gumshoe's neck was bent, his shoulders slouched forward. Miles would have accused him of doing this, the puppy face, on purpose if he didn't absolutely know better. Dick was completely oblivious of any affect he had on the prosecutor. He could tell every time Edgeworth expressed some sort of affection, and Gumshoe responded enthusiastically, with a mix of adoration and complete disbelief. Edgeworth didn't have it in him to say that their roles should have been reversed in this situation.

"How much was in the car before we left?"

The detective was twiddling his thumbs. "Uhm…well, it was full. But those last six stops, and all those rubberneckers, they took a lot out of the car -" He was getting a migraine. "I'm sorry, Mr. Edgeworth -"

"Oh shut it, will you?" Miles slid down in his seat. He wasn't often prone to slouching, but he had no desire to be seen in a broken-down cop car on the side of a highway. If nothing else, the rumors that would spread -

There was a shifting of the car. The driver's side door opened, and then slammed again. He was going to continue pouting, then, instead of helping Miles find a way out of this mess. Miles set his jaw in a firm line. He hated doing this. Asking for rides, asking for anything. But if there was one person he was willing to…demean himself to, someone other than his petulant boyfriend standing outside car, it was…

"Hey Miles! You on your way there? Well, I guess you're already there, you always were more -"

"Wright. I need to ask a favor."

"Huh? Uh, okay. What is it?"

Edgeworth swallowed what little dignity he had left. "I need you to come and pick me up."

"Pick you up? From where? The hotel?"

Edgeworth let his agitation show in the way he sighed. He knew Wright wasn't really making him beg, but it still felt like begging. "No, on the highway. Mile marker 128."

"Wow, that's - hold on -" Phoenix did, at best, a mediocre job of covering the phone before asking his driver, Apollo, apparently the only one at that agency with enough brain cells to actually drive a car, to turn around. Apollo sounded annoyed, with an underlayer of concern.

"Okay, we're turning around now. But what happened? Did Dick not fill the gas tank up?"

Edgeworth sighed again. "No. To his credit, the gas was full. Unfortunately, the amount of gas becomes a rather null point when there are sixteen major road accidents in your way, and no gas station at which to stop and refuel."

Phoenix sighed in condolence. "Man, that's really - wait, are you sure we're going the right way, Apollo?"

The phone line went dead. Miles hoped sincerely that Apollo had a better sense of direction than his employer did, and packed his cell phone away. The thing was losing energy anyway.

Dick had still not re-entered the car. He was standing with his back leaning up against the doors, and he appeared…to be smoking?

"Detective Gumshoe."

"For crying out loud, can't you at least call me Richard? Or is even knowing my first name too embarrassing for you?"

"Fine then," Edgeworth replied curtly. "Richard, what are you doing smoking?"

"Free country, ain't it?" Nonetheless, the detective dropped the cigarette and rubbed it out with his shoe.

"Careful, wouldn't want to be caught littering," he joked. The detective looked at him, still unamused.

"This isn't my fault, you know, Mr. Edgeworth." Miles swallowed. For a man who'd just berated his lack of a first-name basis, Richard was rather stingy with his own use. Miles didn't think it a good time to bring this up. "I did everything you said to do. Sometimes things just happen, you know? No matter how far in advance you think it out. The best laid plans of mice and men do oft go awry."

"Which one of us is the mouse, and which is the man?" Gumshoe didn't answer. choosing instead to bend down and retrieve the butt of his cigarette. He pocketed it and moved around toward the back of the car to sit on the trunk.

"You call your ex?" Miles bit back his automatic snide response. This was simply how Gumshoe behaved whenever he felt their relationship was threatened - which was, in essence, any time Phoenix Wright became involved. It didn't appear to matter that Miles had been the one to do the breaking up, or that Wright was quite happy in his new relationship (as was Miles). The detective bore a strange grudge toward the other attorney that Miles could only assume was to do with the fact that he and Miles shared a profession.

"I called Wright. He is on his way, so to speak." Finally, Richard looked at him again. One eyebrow was raised. "He is not the one driving, Mr. Justice is."

Dick frowned. "Apollo is old enough to have a driver's license?"

Miles did not bother correcting the detective. He was often behind the times in terms of remember who was who and how old they all were. He was hardly the only one; it took detective Skye seven months to stop calling Simon Blackquill 'convict' and Athena Cykes 'kid.' Neither had been very amused.

They sat in silence for a good ten minutes, Miles waiting for his beau to calm down. "It's real pretty, isn't it?" The question was abrupt. Miles looked to Richard, curious. "The sunset, I mean," he said, not taking his eyes away. "She's a real beauty."

"Yes," Miles said softly. "I suppose she is."

Both men jumped when a car honked its horn at them. The driver looked redder than normal, swatting his passenger on the arm. Gumshoe sighed, pushing himself up from the trunk of the car to retrieve their briefcases from the back seat. Miles waited for him to finish and offered to take his own case, but the other man refused. He didn't even acknowledge the offer, walking straight to the waiting car.

"Hey Miles! Hey Dick!"

"Mr. Wright," Gumshoe nodded. "Mr. Justice."

"Detective Gumshoe," Apollo nodded back. "And, uhm, Prosecutor Edgeworth."

Miles nodded to the younger. "Good evening Justice, Wright." He turned to his lover as soon as the greetings were over, but was momentarily distracted by the starting of the car. He'd almost forgotten how hot it actually was outside. The air conditioning was a blessing from Heaven that Miles found himself enjoying a little too much. He opened his eyes, feeling newly fresh. and looked to his partner.

Gumshoe, for his part, was observing their hosts. Wright was smirking and, given Justice's reactions, saying something relatively inappropriate for the setting. He'd become so juvenile since losing his badge, and Edgeworth had hoped that regaining it would bring back what little maturity Wright had gained over the years. It had seemed earlier in the year as though he had. Perhaps it was because of Justice's serious demeanor that Wright felt the need to regress. Perhaps, too, that could explain Gumshoe's softness - a counteracting to his own harshness.

Phoenix leaned over and quickly pecked his partner on the cheek. Apollo blushed and muttered, "Time and place, Nick." Edgeworth could feel rather than see the older man roll his eyes, and watched his hand sneak over to hold Apollo's. This time, the younger man did not object.

Edgeworth turned to his boyfriend, nodding in the direction of their hosts as if to say See? Richard looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. Edgeworth sighed, shaking his own head and offering his hand out to hold. Gumshoe took it.


End file.
